


Inebriation's Intuition

by midgetnazgul



Series: Adoration in Lace [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, hanzo and jesse are stupidly in love, light exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 06:15:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14710661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midgetnazgul/pseuds/midgetnazgul
Summary: Hanzo makes a drunken 3am online purchase when Jesse is away and learns some ~valuable lessons~ about life, himself, and his boyfriend





	Inebriation's Intuition

**Author's Note:**

> hi frens
> 
> I wanna give a huge shoutout to tinyforestshark for hosting a grand old time on the target practice discord about lingerie kink and inspiring this smattering of pornography -- keep fighting the good, sexy fight, frond
> 
> sometimes u just gotta pound out some pwp to break up the unending UST of ur longform fic amirite

                Hanzo stared down the box in front of him, fingers laced together under his nose. Holy _shit_ , he hadn't realized just how wasted he'd gotten while Jesse was away. They needed to implement a substantial IP address blocker to keep him as far away from internet shopping as possible when Jesse was not home. He had about twenty minutes until he had to look his boyfriend in the eyes and explain himself, but as the minutes ticked on and stress curled ever-more-desperately in his spine, he found he had none to help himself.

                So when Jesse opened the door and made to dump his go-bag, he was more than a little surprised to find Hanzo right at the threshold, shoving a box into his chest.

                “Well, _hi_ _there_. The hell is this?”

                Hanzo didn't reply, but he grew inexplicably flush and retreated for the safety of their bed. Odd for him to be so shy, Jesse thought as he shook off his remote concern and focused on the box. He dropped his own stuff to open it. Rustling tissue paper filled the awkward silence until Jesse's eyes went wide and, much to Hanzo's extreme relief, _sparkled_ with delight.

                “You forget my birthday’s already come and gone, sugar?” he asked.

                While Jesse’s reaction made him feel better, the entire situation was more than a little embarrassing.

                “I…I have no excuse for myself, and I owe you a new bottle of Jack.”

                “ _Oh._ Explains the size.”

                Hanzo looked up from where he had previously been admiring the bedspread.

                “What?”

                “Looks a little small for me, I mean. You're gracious in your inebriation about just how much I weigh, though, so I appreciate it,” Jesse explained with a wink.

                “Oh. That’s…no. Jesse, it…it's for _me_.” Shock was all Hanzo could measure in Jesse's facial reaction, but he was determined to struggle through _some_ kind of explanation despite his anxiety spiking again. “I don't know what I was thinking – well, I _wasn't,_ was I? And I missed you, so I got drunk and fucked around too long on the computer—”

                “Han, I told you ten seconds ago _I_ was willing to wear it, what the hell makes you think _you_ need to explain yourself?”

                Jesse set the opened box on his bedside table to get what he'd wanted since getting on his Orca home at 3am: a long kiss, fingers threaded in Hanzo's hair. As hoped, it got Hanzo to relax; for good measure, he made an unspoken promise with a pass of his tongue across Hanzo’s, and got a quiet, hungry little noise in response. Hanzo reiterated his erstwhile longing by chasing Jesse’s mouth for another when he tried to retreat and continue speaking.

                “Missed you, too,” Jesse rumbled, giving Hanzo’s eager lower lip a soft bite before pulling away at last. Whatever they decided to do from here, it wasn’t going to require his three-day-worn shirt, so he peeled everything on his torso off layer by layer – Hanzo could tell how exhausted he was by the unusually-slow movement of his arms going up over his head as he went from serape to button-up to tactical turtleneck. “So, what? You were gonna surprise me all rose petals and candles on the bed and got cold feet?”

                “The thought occurred. And then I remembered myself.”

                “Remembered _what_?”

                “It’s not exactly _my aesthetic_ , Jesse.”

                “Neither was fucking rugged American cowboy cosplayers, until it was,” Jesse shot back with a contented sigh as he dumped himself onto the mattress. Hanzo fell into Jesse’s chest laughing and he was happy to wait, watching the pink invade Hanzo’s face pulled in a grin, before finishing the thought at a far less casual tone and volume. “ _That_ looks good on you, I think, so an outfit to match just sounds like smart thinkin’.”

                Hanzo’s smile vanished and was replaced with a gobsmacked, slackened jaw drop. Jesse’s metal fingers had snuck up under the hem of his shirt and begun drawing cool circles at the small of his back.

                “Jesse…”

                “Tell you what, if you’re gunshy about it, let me help.”

                Jesse sat up and seized the box. As he pulled each piece out – stockings and panties in a deep emerald green – he made a show of biting the tags off. _No returns._ All he had to do was tip his head and give Hanzo one bounce of suggestive eyebrows to get him to slide out of his pajama pants. He was exhausted, but this would require little _real_ effort on his part.

                “You seem…familiar,” Hanzo noted as he shed his shirt and, at last, briefs. “You didn’t hesitate for a moment thinking I meant it for you to wear.”

                “I been around,” Jesse answered coyly, and refused to give any further context beyond a smirk when Hanzo pouted at him. “Feet.”

                “Jesse…you’re tired, I can see it. Are you certain?”

                “I ain’t _ever_ too tired to want a piece of you. That said…I doubt I got it in me to get off myself tonight. You’re coiled tighter ‘n a spring – it’s more than enough for me to fix that for you, dressed up nice. The rest is what morning sex is for.”

                “Have I told you how much I love you?” Hanzo said, utterly smitten.

                “Not that I can recall,” Jesse replied with a wink.

                Hanzo obliged with his feet, left and right pointed through each leg in turns. When Jesse got the panties slid on, he invaded Hanzo’s lap face-first, introducing himself with a long, hot breath before getting his mouth around the shape of Hanzo’s cock barely-hidden in its new wrapping and pressed into the fabric gently with his teeth – only _just_ enough to get Hanzo to let out a peaked whimper and pull Jesse’s dusty hair into a tight fist. Rather than immediately retreat, Jesse nudged at the fabric a little more with his tongue until the head, red and damp, began to peek out the top.

                “So…you would again?” Hanzo asked around his labored breathing.

                “Honey, I’d dress up in a latex clown suit for you if you asked,” Jesse replied as he sat up again to fetch a stocking. “Yes, I would.” He casually bunched up the stocking to prepare putting it on and leveled a wide, lascivious smile at his boyfriend. “Difference between this and the clown suit is I _want_ to.”

                Hanzo’s fingers and toes curled. _Why_ hadn’t he considered that when he was plastered in front of his computer and been _more_ irresponsible?

                “I would _ruin_ you.”

                “I’m countin’ on that.”

                Jesse rolled the first stocking on Hanzo’s foot, but left it at the ankle for a moment in favor of kissing his way up the inside of the leg. As he reached the joint of the hip, he dragged his lower lip along the soft skin of Hanzo’s thigh and finished by sucking a single, brutal mark into the meatiest bit of him. A long, rough moan oozed from Hanzo; when Jesse finally pulled off, Hanzo bent forward to seize Jesse’s head in his hands and plant a kiss in his hair.

                “Love you, too, darlin’.”

                The stocking finished its journey up in a slow drag that made Hanzo’s skin underneath shiver, and Jesse took his time admiring the work as he clipped it into place. He did the same thing over again on the other leg, naturally with a matching hickey Hanzo would be able to feel for days afterward. He straddled Hanzo’s lap and ground into him, jeans against embroidered lace. Mismatched hands dragged up Hanzo’s hips, their opposite textures making him involuntarily draw his legs in together, shivering, as his back arched.

                “I know how y’are about pictures, but just one or two, sugar? _Please?_ I’ll keep ‘em on our secure server an’ everything. I ain’t _ever_ seen somethin’ so fine.”

                Laying into his characteristic affectation _always_ worked on Hanzo, and they both knew it.

                “You may. _One._ ” Jesse pulled his phone out of his back pocket, but it vanished soon as he had it in hand, snatched by Hanzo in a blur. “ _I_ get to choose.”

                After nudging Jesse off him with an imperious, hose-clad foot, he laid back, pondered his angles, and flipped through a number of theatrical expressions mugging for the selfie camera. Jesse watched, propped up on an elbow, in mixed shades of amusement and thirst. Inspiration struck at last; Hanzo sat up, pulled Jesse forward, and crossed his ankles behind his neck to press his head in towards his dick. What’s more, he did it quick enough to capitalize on Jesse’s floored expression and blush. He uploaded the picture where it would be safe, deleted the local copy, and handed back the phone, smugness incarnate.

                “You fuckin’ _scoundrel_.”

                “Come closer and tell me that,” Hanzo shot back, spreading his legs wide as he laid out again.

                Jesse dove right in, sliding up Hanzo’s body. He nestled his knee in-between Hanzo’s legs for grinding and rolled them so he was on his back. Hanzo took to the offer greedily and buried his face against Jesse’s collarbone as he rolled his hips against an ample thigh. To help leverage, Jesse tucked his hands into the back of the panties and gripped Hanzo’s ass tight; his good hand could feel the strain of the fabric trying to contain them.

                “Better already, ain’t it?” Jesse asked, idly petting aside the long threads of Hanzo’s hair it fell across his face. All Hanzo could do was nod; Jesse probably hadn’t showered since sometime yesterday by some unknown time zone’s estimation of a morning, and Hanzo wanted to stew as deeply as he could in every ounce of that one-day-off musk and feel before it went away. He’d been chain smoking on the trip back, Hanzo could tell, and just a hint of wind-blown sand was in his hair, nudging under Hanzo’s fingernails where he carded Jesse’s scalp. Warm, uneven, and finely-coarse as eroded sandstone baking under a late-morning sun – that’s what Jesse felt like, and all the flat, gray, and cool edifice of Gibraltar chafed Hanzo’s mind whenever he was away.

                “Not too high, I got a debrief in the morning,” Jesse murmured, half-chiding, half-purring as Hanzo laid a mark of his own on Jesse’s chest. “And if I’m not gonna come, at least let me get a bit of _that_ properly.”

                Despite the invitation, Hanzo didn’t quite make it to Jesse’s mouth and grew enamored with tugging the shell of his ear with desperate teeth. A gently-laughed _over here_ got him back on track, brow cinched with increasing effort and need while Jesse caught the kisses he could despite Hanzo’s slackjawed distraction. Tension filled Jesse’s arms where they rested against Hanzo’s body – and not the right kind, he could tell.

                “ _More_ , Jesse,” Hanzo breathed.

                “Easy, gorgeous. I gotcha.”

                He nudged Hanzo to roll away from him so he could nestle back in against his back. Immediately, he slid his hand inside to pull Hanzo’s cock free and begin stroking at a lazy pace, and Hanzo’s hand fell back to scrabble at the side of Jesse’s head. The rigidity in Hanzo’s spine faded, and his breaths, while still coming fast, sounded fuller and more rounded. Jesse watched his work with wide-eyed interest; even for being exhausted, he was half-hard against Hanzo’s back. He nibbled at Hanzo’s ear aside his face to get his partner’s attention.

                “I know you’re busy, but you should take a look at yourself,” he rumbled. “Promise it’s worth it.”

                Hanzo, neck arched back against Jesse’s left shoulder and eyes rolled back, pulled himself together enough to do as asked, ending in a violently-hissed curse and a heady whine. His cock, heavy and dark, was framed perfectly by the panties bunched under the base and his green-clad thighs shifting restlessly with the uneven rise and fall of hips trying to match Jesse’s strokes. Sporadic pre-come along the line of his hips from before Jesse took him in hand dotted his skin as wet spots where his thick black hair didn’t completely fill in.

                “Ain’t _you_ pretty,” Jesse hummed. Hanzo’s unpinned hand flew down to slap around Jesse’s wrist as he pulled him off and he spat out his name as a gut-backed bleat. Not long now. Jesse picked up his pace and took extra care pressing into soaked head with a heavy thumb. Hanzo turned a bit in his arms so he could part his thighs wide as he could for being on their sides and gave a rough, clipped wail as he came, spattering his new accoutrement despite Jesse’s best effort to get his hand to take the worst of it.

                “I know, one minute, pumpkin,” Jesse purred as he extricated himself – he was far too sexually sober to stand his fingers being as sticky as they were for long, no matter how clingy Hanzo was in afterglow. When he returned, hands clean and additional washcloth in hand, Hanzo was a picture of languid where he left him, his long undercut spread in winding tendrils underneath the shaved sides on the bedspread, giving the hair on his crown a waterfall effect. One foot slid back and forth, making the suspenders connecting stocking to underwear stretch as his knee rose and fell.

                “These’re gonna have to come off right quick and soak if you ever wanna wear ‘em again.”

                Hanzo let out a petulant sound, but acquiesced. He _would_ like to. He lifted his hips to let Jesse unclothe him again, but could barely manage much more than that. In the week Jesse had been gone, Hanzo hadn’t slept well. Now, with him home, safe, and Hanzo feeling sated in all conceivable ways, it was catching up with him.

                “Thank you,” Hanzo murmured, reaching up to frame Jesse’s face with his hands as he cleaned him up with the washcloth. “I worked myself up over nothing, though I’m sure you’re far from surprised.”

                “Maybe, but that ain’t somethin’ to fret over either,” Jesse replied, tapping the tip of Hanzo’s nose with a finger. “I know how you work. Why would I turn my nose up at _anything_ you give me, sweet pea?”

                “Because I still wake up every day expecting this won’t be perfect anymore.”

                Jesse leant in for a kiss; Hanzo met it casually, but Jesse pushed back, deepening it to underline his yet-unspoken point. He didn’t retreat far even when finished, opting to draw a soft line with his nose up one of Hanzo’s high cheekbones to speak against his ear. A thumb traced an adoring line through the fade on Hanzo’s temple.

                “Ain’t nothin’ perfect, Han. But you have my word that everyday I’ll fuckin’ aim for it. I see how hard you try, and I’m not sure you know it, so this is me telling you. I do. I know. It’s okay.”

                God _damn_ it, Jesse took such good _care_ of him. Hanzo pulled Jesse in to hold him and tangled their legs together. They were laying the wrong way on the bed, but fuck it, they could drift off like this. All he wanted right now was the six-foot-one lump of reassuring weight he’d been lacking all week.

                “I have never known of anyone or anything as good as you,” Hanzo said, taking Jesse’s good hand from where it had been stroking his head so he could kiss the inside of the wrist before nuzzling his face into the palm. “I just want to be the same. Just as _good_. Without trying.”

                “Then I said it wrong. I’m makin’ it sound like you don’t get there.”

                “So I do?”

                “Every goddamn day.”

                Hanzo put his hand over Jesse’s holding his face and turned to kiss his palm, eyes scrunched shut.

                “Love you,” he mumbled against the skin, so quietly Jesse felt it more than he heard it.

                “You too,” Jesse replied with a kiss at the corner of Hanzo’s jaw. Reluctantly, he sat up, answering Hanzo’s drone of protest with a tug on his arm to follow so they could settle properly into bed. “I _hate_ goin’ away solo. It’s bad when it’s you running off, but at least I’m home with everybody else. Someone to talk to.”

                “That doesn’t seem to help me at all.”

                “Uh-uh, don’t try, they tell me how you lock yourself up in here when I’m not around. You gotta _talk_ to em to make friends, Han.”

                Hanzo conceded the point with a ragged bit of self-deprecating laughter.

                “Then we’ll make a deal: when you have to go, I will endeavor to… _be sociable_ , and you can spend your time wondering what kind of gift I will have for you to reward me with when you get home.”

                “You’re an absolute _shit_.”

                “You’d look good in pink,” Hanzo mused, deliberately ignoring Jesse. “Something in an antique shade, rose-grey, maybe.”

                “…Goddamn it, yes, okay.”


End file.
